The Flaw In Her Logic
by OnceInALifetime
Summary: The first thing Brennan was aware of was that it was three in the morning. The second was a steady knocking on the front door of her apartment, increasing in pace and force as the seconds ticked by." Takes place the night of the 100th episode.
1. Part One

**Disclaimer -**I don't own _Bones,_Fox, or any of their affiliates. Sadly, I don't own David Boreanaz, either.

**Summary -**"_The first thing Brennan was aware of was that it was three in the morning. The second was a steady knocking on the front door of her apartment, increasing in pace and force as the seconds ticked by."_Spoilers for _The Parts in the Sum of the Whole,_otherwise known as the 100th episode.

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The first thing Brennan was aware of was that it was three in the morning. The second was a steady knocking on the front door of her apartment, increasing in pace and force as the seconds ticked by. 

Climbing out of bed, she wrapped a robe around her and padded out of her bedroom, wincing as the knocking continued. Her head hurt, her body ached, and she was reasonably positive that the sclera of her eyes were bloodshot from crying.

Memories of the night flitted through her mind. Brennan knew that her advanced intelligence allowed her to process and comprehend facts much faster then the average person, but even she could not logically explain the speed in which the events assaulted her. From Sweet's accusations to Booth's confession, to the kiss and subsequent rejection, and finally, to a dinner where Booth tried so hard to act like everything was fine, when everything most definitely was _not_fine… she felt the vein in her right temple give a sharp throb.

The thought of Booth brought another memory to the forefront of her thoughts, a memory she wished she could metaphorically cleanse out of her mind. Booth's face, his eyes expressing heartbreak, glistening with tears that she'd caused. She'd hurt him, all in an attempt to keep him from hurting him. It was a paradox that she could find no answer to.

The knocking doubled, and Brennan realized that she was standing in the middle of the hallway, her arms folded tightly across her stomach, fists clenched. She forced herself to breathe deeply, her arms falling to her sides and the muscles of the subdivisions of her face relaxing.

She knew who was standing outside of her door. Not because she could feel his presence, or any of that romantic drivel. No, Brennan knew that Booth was knocking on her door from fact. No one else had ever come by this late at night, not without calling first. No one else would feel comfortable enough around her to do so

Brennan made the final few steps to the door and rested her hand against the cool metal of the door knob. She forced herself to stand up straighter and smile, ignoring when the expression felt forced, awkward.

When she opened the door, Booth's fist was raised, ready to knock yet again. He froze for a moment, taking in the open door before his eyes whipped down to Brennan. His hair was wet; water streamed down his face in rivulets, his jacket clinging to his shoulders.

"Booth?" she asked, opening the door wider when Booth made no attempt to move. "What're you doing here? It's late." Booth took a fraction of a step forwards, allowing the light off of her porch to cast down onto his face.

He looked almost as bad as she felt. His epidermis was pale, his mouth tightly set. Weariness radiated off of him, and Brennan felt something twist inside of her, knowing she was the cause.

"We can't work together." The words were spoken bluntly, almost too much force behind them. Brennan felt herself recoil backwards, absently noticing as Booth flinched, too.

She meant to say something strong. Something to reassure him that she understood; that she realized how unfair this situation was on him. Instead, a choked "What?" was the only word that she managed to force out.

"We can't work together," Booth repeated, the words softer, less demanding. "I thought I'd be able to. I- I thought I could work past this. But Bones… Temperance, I don't know if I can."

Brennan would've yelled, called him a hypocrite and a liar, if it wasn't for the completely earnest, heartbroken expression on his face.

'_The heart is a muscle, and muscles can't be broken,'_she remembered him telling her months ago, when they'd been discussing the death of an innocent woman's son during Christmas. '_Only crushed.'_ Brennan realized that he had been right; her heart felt as if it was being crushed within her chest.

She opened her mouth, closed it, trying to figure out what to say. She felt tears well up, and she ducked her head, hastily tried to blink them away. She could feel Booth's gaze on her, so intense, too intense, but he didn't say anything. He just stood there, watching as she breathed slow and deep, trying not to fall apart.

As the seconds dragged on, the first tendrils of anger begin to seep through her, winding through her body like poison. Logically, she knew she had no right to be angry; after all, Booth was perfectly entitled to his right to refuse to work with her. But yet the anger pumped through her, pushing any vestiges of hurt to the back of her mind.

"If you're trying to punish me for saying no-" she began, before being abruptly cut off as Booth stepped into the apartment. Brennan fell two paces back to allow him access inside, before standing her ground and crossing her arms.

"You think I'd do that?" he asked, the disappointment on his face outweighing the surprise. "You think I'd stop working with you, just for some kind of payback?"

Brennan's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, even as she raised her chin the slightest bit in defiance. "It's the theory that makes the most sense," she snapped out, surprising herself at the strength of emotion in her voice. "Besides, what am I supposed to think? You spring the idea of us being together on me, and then…"

"No." In the time it took Brennan to blink, Booth was standing in front of her, barely a hairs-breadth away. "You don't get to pretend that you had no idea how I feel about you." A pause, then, "How we feel about each other."

"Booth, don't…" Brennan whispered.

"I have to," he said, staring at her with something akin to helplessness. "Don't you get it, Bones? I have to do this. I have to make you _understand_ before you say no."

"I'm perfectly capable of understanding the situation," Brennan shot out, grateful to be on more sturdy ground. "I'm not a child, Booth. I'm perfectly capable of making my own decisions. You're not going to change my mind." Brennan ignored the low pang in what Booth would call her gut, telling her that she was making a mistake.

"So you understand that I love you." Surprise parted her lips, widened her eyes, caused her breathing to hitch. "You understand that I _know_that you love me too. You understand that when I look at you, I see my future. You understand all of that, and yet you're willing to throw it all away?" Booth's eyes seemed to physically darken as he looked down at her. Brennan knew it was from his pupils dilating, but that knowledge didn't cause her breathing to stutter at the reaction.

"Don't, Booth." The words lacked force, something she knew Booth would catch onto immediately. "Don't predict to know how I feel." The words _'about you'_floated in the air unspoken.

"Tell me you don't love me," Booth said suddenly, stepping backwards, away from Brennan. "Look me in the eye, Bones, and tell me you don't love me. Tell me that, and I'll drop this. I'll learn how to deal. I'll move on. But first, Bones… you need to tell me."

"Fine," Brennan said, her eyes flicking across his face before staring him straight in the eyes. "Booth, I don't…" She cleared her throat, tried again. "I- I don't… I don't…" She looked at him helplessly as the words refused to be spoken.

"You can't say it, can you?" Booth didn't sound triumphant, but merely resigned.

"That's not the point!" Brennan cried, feeling a tear slip down her cheek. Normally, she never cried; now, it seemed like the only thing she could do. She angrily swiped at it, leaving a shimmering streak on her skin.

"Then what is, Bones?" Booth asked, stepping forwards and closing the distance between them again. "If you can't deny that you love me, then what's holding us back? What's stopping us? And don't tell me it's about the FBI," he added on. "You know that's not the issue here."

A noise escaped Brennan; Booth would've called it laughter, if not for the complete lack of humour. "I already told you," she answered. "I can't change who I am, and you deserve someone better then me." She ducked her head, any hints of defiance gone.

A warm finger hooked around her chin, tilting her face up to meet Booth's dark eyes. "Don't you get it, Bones?" he asked. "I don't _want_ you to change. I only want you. Just you." Booth's free hand lifted to tuck a lock of hair behind Brennan's ear, before the pads of his fingers traced gently down the side of her face. "Can't you just accept that?"

"How can I, when you wanting to be in a relationship with me is completely irrational?" Brennan replied, hating the way her voice wavered around the words. "We're completely opposite, and eventually you would become tired of it. Tired of me." The last words slipped out, and Brennan felt her cheeks flush, yet again.

"Don't try to convince me that I would end up tired of us," Booth whispered, his hand turning to cup Brennan's cheek. His other hand moved up from her chin, until he was cradling her face in his hands. "Because I wouldn't. Ever."

He paused, searching her face for permission. She tried not to give it to him- god, she tried –but Booth had always been able to read her the same way she read bones.

His lips brushed against hers, the pressure so light, she wasn't even sure if it qualified as a kiss. He pulled back the slightest bit, giving her the opportunity to shove him, or hit him, or tell him off. She did neither; instead, Brennan kept her eyes closed, waiting, her heart pounding so loudly that she could hear it in her ears.

Booth didn't disappoint. He kissed her again, one hand moving down to her waist to pull her closer as he slanted his mouth over hers. Tenderness turned into passion, and for one brief moment, Brennan forgot that this was wrong, that it could only end up hurting them.

Without warning, Booth broke the kiss, pupils blown wide, breathing heavy. Brennan knew she was no better off; she could feel her pulse racing.

Booth's hand trailed down the side of her face once again before retreating into his pockets.

"I'm not going to pressure you into this, Temperance," he murmured. "That's why we can't work together, at least for now. If I'm around you, every day, I'm afraid… I'm afraid I'll start to pressure you. Look at right now- I've barely even been here and I'm already trying to... this has to be your decision."

"How long of a break do you need before we can work together again?" Brennan asked, because that's what she was supposed to say. Compartmentalization was her strength, but even she didn't know how long she had before, as Sweets would put it, the dam broke.

"Long enough for me to process this, and figure out how to work through it. How to move on," Booth said simply. His expression softened as he gazed at her, all rumpled hair and reddened lips. "I came here to tell you that before I lost the courage. Believe me Bones, I never wanted to hurt you. And I'm not leaving you," he tacked on, soothing a part of her that she hadn't even realized was hurting. "This is temporary, I promise. Just until I can man up and figure out how to deal." A weak smile crossed his face, not quite touching his eyes.

"I understand. After all, you've never been sufficient in compartmentalization or rationalization." With that, Booth knew the discussion was closed.

He turned around and walked towards the still-open door, pausing briefly when she called his name. He looked over his shoulder, only to feel something warm flutter in his chest at the image she presented, standing in her robe, barefoot, her hair mussed around her face.

"Booth?" she repeated, not waiting for an answer. "If I… I mean, if I want…" Once again, she couldn't get the words out, yet Booth knew exactly what she meant. He always kind of had.

"You know where to find me." With that, Booth closed the door behind him, leaving Brennan alone in her apartment.

She stood in the middle of the room for a moment, an inevitable conclusion slowly dawning on her. She'd created a thousand arguments, a thousand different ways to prove that there was no way she and Booth would ever work together. Except now, she was realizing that there was a fundamental flaw in her logic, one that sent all of her arguments crashing to the ground.

_I'm in love with Booth._

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**This is my first time ever writing in the Bones universe, even though I've been faithfully watching the show since season two. I'm desperately hoping that I didn't butcher two of my most favorite characters, so please let me know what you thought, and if I should continue this or not? **


	2. Part Two

**Disclaimer -**I don't own _Bones,_Fox, or any of their affiliates. Sadly, I don't own David Boreanaz, either.

***Notes** – First of all, thank you so, _so_ much to everyone who reviewed this story, put it on their alerts, or favorited it. I've never, ever had this type of reaction from one of my stories before, and it was completely awe-inspiring. Also, I'm replying to all of the reviews for chapter one via PM; if you haven't received one yet, it's because I'm still working my way through them. Again, thank you so much!

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Four days. That was how long it took before Booth showed back up at the lab, a sheepish smile on his lips and a case file in his hands.

She'd asked him if he'd had sufficient time to move on, all the while ignoring the way her sympathetic nervous system kicked in, increasing her heart rate, doubling her pulse.

He'd replied by telling her that moping wasn't going to change the facts, and working with her would help move on more then avoidance could. It wasn't his answer, but the soft smile he gave her, the one that caused his eyes to crinkle and his face to soften, that made Brennan's body tingle in a way definitely not associated with damage to the spinal cord.

She'd always told herself that her reaction to Booth was a mixture of hormones, pheromones, and his pleasing bone structure. Purely chemical, nothing emotional. He was her partner, the FBI agent that gave her guy hugs and loved her in an 'atta girl kind of way'. He was her friend, her co-worker, her male version of Angela.

Except Angela had never given her Brainy Smurf, or Jasper, or a speech on making love so romantic that logic fell to the wayside. Angela never looked at her the way Booth did, with a single minded intensity that was nearly overwhelming in its passion. Angela was her friend, but Booth- Booth was more then a friend.

_Stop. _Brennan forced herself to focus on the skull she was examining, not her conflicted feelings. Booth had been back for a week now, and she _had _to stop thinking of him romantically, and-

"Bones, we've got a lead!" Booth appeared as if summoned by her thoughts- Brenan refused to ponder on how ludicrous the thought was- waving around a case file.

He ran up the steps to join her on the platform, not noticing as Hodgins raced by. Hodgins swiped his card through the scanner, preventing the alarm from going off, before meandering back towards the microscope he'd been at moments before.

"A lead on Jane Doe 467?" Brennan asked, glancing up briefly at Booth, who'd stopped by the edge of the table. His hands were tucked deep into his pockets, and he was rolling on the balls of his feet, as if wanting to move, yet unable to. Brennan felt her shoulders sag the slightest bit in disappointment.

Since their confrontation at her apartment, Booth had been keeping his distance. Brennan supposed it was to be expected, but she hadn't realized how often Booth touched her, whether it be a guiding hand on the small of her back or a gentle nudge to her shoulder.

She hadn't noticed the consistency of Booth's presence until it was gone.

"… Bones?" Brennan looked up to see Booth looking at her, the first hints of concern dwelling in his eyes.

"Yes?" she asked, placing the skull carefully on the table before leaning over, examining the femur.

"Did you even hear a word I said?" Booth stepped forwards, a hand hovering over her back for the briefest moment, contact so close but not quite. Brennan straightened, and Booth's hand fell away, only to be stuffed back into his pocket.

"I thought I saw a possible fracture of the skull, but I was incorrect." Brennan turned away from Booth to snap her gloves off, tossing them in a nearby waste bin. "What were you saying?"

"We ran Angela's facial reconstruction through the missing person's database, and we found a match. Her name was Kelsey McKinney; she was twenty three." Booth handed her the case file, and Brennan opened it to see a picture of a young, African American woman staring back at her, a bright smile on her face.

"Jane Doe's bone structure matches the picture," Brennan stated. "Kelsey McKinney it is. Angela's did an exemplary job, as per usual. Speaking of which, why didn't she deliver this information to me?"

Booth ducked his head, and the lightest of flushes spread up his neck and into his cheeks. "She demanded that I come up here to tell you," he answered. "She claimed she was too busy to do it herself."

"I don't understand… Angela's never that busy. Unless this was her attempt to have us reconcile our differences?" Booth flinched at the words, and Brennan abruptly realized that they may have not been the most appropriate. "I'm sorry, was that unsuitable to say?"

"It's fine, Bones," Booth muttered, eyes downcast, arms moving to cross over his body.

"Are you sure?" she pressed, taking the slightest of steps towards him. "I know this is hard for you, and I don't want…" The word seemed to dry up in Brennan's mouth; physically, she knew the prospect was impossible, but it seemed an adequate metaphor for her sudden inability to speak.

"Don't want what?" A pause, and then Booth shifted towards her, his hand gently touching her elbow. The touch burned through her thin lab coat, and she found herself staring at the point of contact; easier that then look into Booth's eyes.

"You don't want what?" Booth repeated, his thumb rubbing small, gentle circles on the blue material. Brennan watched its progress, until her name, nearly whispered, drew her attention towards him.

He was staring at her, the expression on his face identical to the one eleven days ago, when he'd said he was in love with her. The smallest bit of concern reappeared in his eyes, and Brennan realized he was waiting for a response.

She tried; she honestly, truly tried. But the words were stuck, stuck somewhere too deep and damaged to contemplate; the harder she tried to pull them out, the deeper they lodged. The first hints of panic swirled through her, warning her that this was _too much _and _too far _and she couldn't take this risk, not with him, not with the one person she relied on, needed, more than anyone.

The moment dragged on, then slipped away, a whisper in the wind. "It's not important," Brennan choked out, unsuccessfully ignoring a low pang of hurt when Booth drew away, releasing her arm.

His eyes met hers. She forced herself to hold eye contact before glancing away, hating herself for the resignation written across his face; obvious, even to someone as clueless as her. The sight shook something loose in her, and Brennan turned back to the skeleton on the table before her impulsivity could reign over logic.

"Has the next of kin been notified?" Brennan was thankful that her voice didn't shake, although the question may have been sharper then intended.

There was a pause, then Booth replied. "Her mother, Alicia McKinney, was informed half an hour ago. She was out of town, but she'll be here within the next," he glanced at his watch, "two hours."

"Want to grab lunch while we wait?" Brennan asked. Booth looked at her immediately in surprise, and Brennan knew why. Booth always joked about how he considered himself lucky if he managed to drag her to a deli while she was working a case; she never _offered_ to leave the lab for lunch.

"Please?" she added, hoping he would catch the meaning behind her words. She wasn't asking him to lunch; she was asking him to forgive her, forgive her for hurting him again, for not being able to be what he needed.

One look in his eyes, and she knew she was forgiven, even as his answer stung her. "I would, but I have plans for lunch." There was warmth in his face, but Booth's smile looked faked, forced.

"Does Rebecca need you to look after Parker?" There was an expression about fire, Brennan remembered hearing. Playing around it, perhaps? According to Angela, it was an apt way to describe what she was doing- asking questions she wasn't sure she wanted the answer to.

"No, it's not Parker." With that, and a weak, parting smile, Booth turned to leave.

"Then what are you doing?" Booth turned back, and Brennan cursed the words even as they slipped out. "We're partners, Booth- you don't have to avoid the question."

Without warning, something dark, something angry, flitted across Booth's face. He stepped forwards, pressing into her personal space.

"What do you want me to say, Bones? The truth? Fine. I'm going on a date, and you know that damn well. What _I_ don't understand is why you keep pushing me for an answer you _know _I don't want to give. You don't want me, or us; fine, I can accept that. Just… don't make it harder for me then this already is. Okay?"

Just as quickly as it appeared, the anger was gone, leaving only a hopelessness that stunned Brennan to witness. Booth turned and left, but this time, Brennan found she had no words to call him back.

Her eyes were stinging, but she blinked back the tears fiercely. She was not going to cry over him, not again. Kelsey McKinney was still without a cause of death, and dammit, Brennan was going to do all she could to rectify that.

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"Her name's Anna." Brennan looked up from her paperwork to see Booth standing in the doorway to her office, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes were swirling with emotion, something unidentifiable hidden within the depths.

"Booth, you don't have to tell me this," Brennan replied hastily.

"Yes, I do. You asked." He took a step forwards, one hand dropping into his pocket; Brennan instinctively knew he was holding the poker chip he carried with him. "I met her last week, at the café down the street from the diner. She asked me to coffee, I said yes."

"Booth, this isn't necessary," Brennan managed, tightening her grip on her pen. She tried to answer the next question on her report, but found that her hand was trembling too hard to do so.

"She asked me to coffee," Booth repeated, taking another step forwards. "It wasn't a date, not officially, but it felt like one. She's religious; she believes in marriage, wants to start a family of her own." Another step. "She's exactly the kind of person I should want to be with."

"Should?" Brennan asked, her voice pitching upwards on the word.

"Yes, should." Booth's voice lowered in contrast, and Brennan realized that he was scant feet away from her. Only her wooden desk separated them. She leaned back in her chair, giving up all pretence of working, devoting her full attention to him.

"She's perfect for me, Bones, but I don't want her. This dance you and me have been doing around each other- it has to end. I know we've discussed this, debated it, realized that we can't be together, but…. when I'm with her… when I'm with anyone but you, I feel like…" a slow, deep breath, "I feel like I'm cheating on you."

"Booth, you have no obligation to me." Ever calm, ever rational, even as warring emotions made breathing nearly painful. Booth's eyes flicked up towards hers, and she realized that the darkness in them was pain, pain mixed with something deep and powerful, intertwined to the point that they couldn't be separated.

Booth laughed cynically, a noise Brennan never wanted to hear again. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Either way, that doesn't change how I feel, does it?" Booth asked. "I told myself that hey, maybe coming back to work with you was the best thing for me. I thought that if I faced this thing head on, I could deal with it, before it wrecks one of the best friendships I've ever had." A smile turned up the corner of Booth's lips for the briefest second, but disappeared quickly.

"I was wrong." Three words, three syllables, an infinite amount of consequences. "I can't deal, not when I'm around you like this. I told you four days alone was enough, but it's not." Another deep breath. "Rebecca's going out of town next week, and I have custody of Parker. I'm going to be taking a two week leave, take him camping… do things a father should." Brennan absently how Booth's expression immediately softened the moment he brought up Parker.

Brennan knew it was her turn to say something. She knew, but she couldn't respond. Her calmness, her rationality, her compartmentalization abilities… they were all abandoning her, leaving her when she needed them the most.

All she was left with was the feeling that something worth fighting for was slipping through her fingers, all without a struggle.

"We're leaving tomorrow," he finished, shoulders hunched, all of the fight drained out of him. "I'll have the FBI assign you a temporary partner while I'm gone. Bones… kust let me go for now. I'll be back, and we can go back to how it used to be. I promise." A weak smile, and then Booth was gone without a sound, mimics of the sniper he used to be.

Feeling suspiciously like they'd echoed their conversation from her apartment, Brennan leaned forwards in her chair, elbows resting on her desk. She absently caught one of her earrings between her fingers, tugging on it lightly as she asked herself the kind of question she hated. A question with no right or wrong answer, just consequences that could be felt for months to come.

_Is the chance of this going wrong, worth the chance of it going right?_

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She knocked on his door before glancing down at her phone. _11:25PM_, the glowing numbers informed her. She vaguely remembered how, in high school, all the girls would talk about how they had butterflies in their stomachs on their first dates, their first kisses. Brennan finally understood the metaphor; it was an apt description for the way her stomach seemed to be twisting, as if winged insects were truly residing within her.

The door parted, then swung open when Booth realized who it was. He beckoned her in, even as disappointment laced his actions. Brennan took three steps inside, breathing slowly, gathering her courage.

Booth didn't seem to notice her internal dilemma as he sighed heavily. "Bones, I told you I can't do this anymore." He seemed to visibly deflate before her eyes. "We can't stay at this stalemate. Even when we talk things out, nothing changes. I can't… I can't do this anymore, okay? It's just-"

"I don't know if I believe in love," she blurted, shocking Booth into silence. "I don't know if it exists in the spiritual way you believe in, a way outside of hormones. But if it does… then that's what I feel towards you." The words felt awkward and clunky, not the romantic declaration she'd wanted to give him.

Booth didn't seem to care how scientific her answer was. He stepped closer, and Brennan realized his eyes were glistening, a sheen of moisture only intensifying the brown irises.

"I'm a scientist," she said, echoing the words of their conversation, weeks ago. "You're a gambler, a man of religion. Hypothetically, if you wanted me to change, then I should want you to change, right?" She looked up, only to see Booth staring wordlessly at her. Waiting.

She swallowed hard, continued. "I don't want you to change, despite the justification I would have in wanting you to do so. If my reasoning applies in reverse, then… then it makes sense that you truly mean that you don't want me to change. It's, it's not you that I didn't trust- it was me."

Brennan looked up to find Booth a foot away, more serious then she'd ever seen him. "Are you sure, Bones?" He reached a hand out, tentatively, resting it on her shoulder. "I need you to be sure. If you commit to this now, you can't back out if things get scary. Promise me, Temperance. You have to promise me."

In a move that surprised even herself, Brennan covered his hand with her own, contrasting light on dark, small over large.

"I'm sure," she whispered, her eyes flicking from his lips to his eyes, back down to his lips. A noise echoed between them, a breathless, joyous laugh, and Brennan didn't know from whom it came.

The press of his lips against hers wasn't sizzling, or knee-weakening, or any of the other terms Angela's romantic literatures would use. It was soft, tender… _right. _

She pulled back, slow, her lips clinging to his until the last possible second. She kept her eyes closed, feeling more raw, more open, then she could ever remember being.

The thought sent a tendril of panic through her, and she felt herself tense, ready to make excuses, hide, leave. Booth seemed to sense it, because he lifted a hand to her face, ghosting a thumb across her lips, the roughened pad stimulating her nerve cells.

"Bones, look at me." There wasn't a command in Booth's voice, but a question, and Brennan found herself helpless to say no. Her gaze met his, and she found herself surprised at the emotion she saw in his gaze, echoing her own.

_I'm not alone in this. _Somehow, that knowledge made everything seem easier, made the idea of a being in a relationship not as big and scary.

A sudden grin broke out across Booth's face, an expression Angela would call heart stopping. Without warning, he scooped her into his arms and spun her around once, holding her almost painfully tight.

She swatted at his arm in annoyance, even as a laugh bubbled out of her. He set her down, the joy on his face untainted as he leaned down to kiss her again, a kiss Brennan could righteously describe as sizzling and knee-weakening.

Booth pulled back, only after they were both breathless and panting, the look on his face one she's only seen a handful of times before. It was the same look he gave Parker, one of complete devotion and utter love. It should of scared her, but at that moment, she didn't feel fear.

No, all Dr. Temperance Brennan felt was an echo of that same emotion, rising from somewhere within her, slowly making its way to the surface. Accompanying it was one word, a word that summed up all she'd ever wanted, everything that Booth was turning out to be to her.

_Home._

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**Please let me know what you thought? **


	3. Excerpt One: Telling Parker

**Disclaimer -**I don't own _Bones, _Fox, or any of their affiliates. Sadly, I don't own David Boreanaz, either.

**Summary -**Although this story is technically completed, I found that I couldn't let it go. Because of that, I'm going to be adding a series of 'firsts' in Bones and Booth's relationship; this chapter is about telling Parker that they're romantically involved. I hope you like it, and there's definitely going to be more to come!

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"Bones, he's a seven year old boy. He's not going to _care_ about the information you 'present' him!"

Brennan looked up, exasperation in her eyes as she glared at Booth. They'd been discussing how to tell Parker about their relationship for nearly twenty minutes, but neither she, nor Booth, had moved any closer towards a decision.

"Parker deserves to have all of the facts," Brennan stated. "Especially considering the negative stigma stepmothers, and their like, have in the media; I don't want him taking any preconceived notions and applying them directly to- what?" Brennan found herself glaring at the smirk spreading across Booth's face. "What's so funny?"

"Stepmother?" Booth took a step towards her, the smirk turning into a grin. "Bones, in order to be Parker's stepmother, you'd have to be married to me.... be my wife." Another step, until Booth was scant inches away, the heat of his body a near physical touch. A dramatic pause, then, "Is that a proposal, Dr. Temperance Brennan?"

"Of course not!" Brennan shot back, her tone a tad too sharp, a tad too defensive. "I was using the term stepmother as a general example of what I would become to Parker. My views on the archaic tradition of marriage may have altered since meeting you, but that doesn't mean-"

"Relax Bones, it was just a joke." Booth raised a hand and skirted it down her cheek, amusement draining away as he stared at her. Sometimes, he found it hard to believe that he was finally able to touch her without fearing backlash; that he could kiss her, linger against her lips, hold her in his arms… _be_with her, in every sense of the word, without the fear of waking up.

"Booth?" The questioning tone in Brennan's voice yanked Booth back into the conversation. She was staring at him, confusion in those light blue eyes, concern pursing the corners of her mouth.

"Sorry Bones, I went somewhere." Booth shrugged in explanation before leaning down, dramatically pouting when Brennan pushed him back with a hand on his chest.

"No you didn't," she stated slowly, as if talking to a small child. "You were right in front of me! You couldn't have gone anywhere _while_ being here; that would defy the most basic laws of physics."

"Not physically, Bones, mentally. Look, it was a metaphor." Booth leaned forwards, pressing a kiss to her lips when she made to argue. He'd quickly learned that kissing her was one of the easiest ways to end an argument, although she was just as quick to use physical intimacy in her favor.

"We've gotten totally off topic," Brennan muttered, pushing Booth another step back. He frowned, but moved willingly. "What are we going to say to Parker?"

"We're going to say that you're going to be around a lot more. He's going to ask if you're my girlfriend. I'll say yes, you are. You'll agree, even though you hate the term, and that will be that."

"Are you sure?" Brennan asked, catching her lower lip between her teeth, worrying it. The action, combined with her softened tone, clued Booth in. _She's worried about this._

Booth smiled, reaching down to catch Brennan's hand between his own. "I'm sure, Bones; he already loves you." He paused, watching Brennan process the words, analyzing his statement and creating her own conclusion.

"Okay," she said slowly, seconds later. "It's just… I want him to like me, Booth. Parker's important to you, and although I realize I have no influence on your son's opinion of me… I want him to approve of me. Which, of course, is completely illogical, considering that he's a seven year old child, and his psyche is still developing."

Without warning, Booth pulled her into a hug, smiling against her hair when she relaxed into his embrace. Not for the first time, he marveled at how small and delicate she felt in his arms, all while being so solid and real. He tightened his grip minutely, feeling a fierce protectiveness flood through him when her head nestled into his shoulder.

A minute passed, then two, but neither was willing to move. Brennan tried, but Booth just pulled her closer; it was oddly reminiscent of their 'guy hug' from years before. Except this time, there was no need to hide behind a label of partners, or make excuses for what they felt.

"We need to head back to your apartment," Brennan managed eventually, her head still resting on his shoulder. "Parker will be there within the next two hours, and besides, we can't be physically intimate at the lab. Someone might walk in, and then…"

"And then everyone would know," Booth sighed, releasing her and stepping back, ignoring how cold air flooded the space where she'd been. "I was thinking, and Bones… would that be such a bad thing?"

Brennan looked at him, eyes wide, and Booth had his answer. _Not yet._She was still adjusting to them being a couple, still trying to trust in them, and Booth loved her for that. He wasn't going to push her, not when she was already giving him every bit of faith she had.

He cleared his throat, changing the topic abruptly. "Want to head back to my place? Like you said, Parker will be there soon, and Rebecca will flip out if we're not there to meet him." Booth flashed his charm smile, hoping to wipe the saddened expression off of her face.

"I'm sorry, Booth." Brennan's voice caught on the words. "I know you don't like this... this sneaking around, but I'm just not- I'm not ready yet. I want to be, but…"

"Hey Bones, I know. When you're ready, you'll know- we have all the time in the world." Booth's smile softened, but was no less sincere. "You're with me, right now. That's all that matters."

"Booth… thank you," Brennan whispered in reply, awe evident in her voice.

"There's nothing to thank me for, Bones." Booth slung an arm around her shoulders, casual, and led her to her office doors. "Now, you ready?"

"Always." Turning sideways and leaning forwards, Brennan pressed a kiss to Booth's cheek, unaware of how Booth's heart stuttered in reaction. He pulled her the slightest bit closer to him, softness and warmth pressed against his side, before letting her go. If Angela caught one glimpse of them like that, Booth _knew_ she'd scream loud enough to alert the entire lab.

Placing a hand on the small of her back, Booth urged her out the door, not noticing as Angela watched them from across the lab, the end of her pen tapping against her lips, a small smirk unfolding.

*

*

"Are you dating Dr. Bones?" Parker asked, his face lighting up at the idea. Booth glanced from Parker's face to see Brennan, lips parted, the closest to speechless he'd ever seen.

On the drive from the lab to his apartment, Brennan had designed a plan. Booth, of course, had informed her that plans were useless around seven year old boys. Brennan, of course, had refused to listen. She'd insisted on preparing, quoting some old, dead guy on the use of being ready.

Her plan of dinner, talking, and then dessert had blown up in her face the moment Rebecca dropped the youngest Booth off. Parker had practically jumped his father, and they'd rolled around on the floor, mock wrestling. When Parker finally 'pinned' Booth, Booth had looked up to see Brennan smiling down at him, something open in her face, something vulnerable.

Parker was still bouncing on his chest, but Booth felt himself freeze, drinking her in. It was the expression he'd imagined waking up to, every morning for the rest of his life. Brennan had stared right back, and Parker had noticed the tension.

Which, of course, led them to where they were now.

"Are you, daddy?" Parker asked again, his little fists pounding against Booth's chest when he didn't answer. Booth sat up, tucking Parker on his lap, trying to buy Brennan time to relax and regroup.

"Why do you say that, buddy?" he asked in a light tone, genuinely curious. After all, Parker had barely been with them for five minutes, hardly enough time to think, let alone make such an accurate guess.

"You guys looked all mushy and stuff, like the couples in mommy's movies do," Parker answered, rolling his eyes as if it was obvious. "Was the artist lady right?"

Booth started in surprise, gaze shifting to Brennan when she asked, "The artist lady... do you mean Angela? What did she say?"

"She told me that you and my daddy were going to get together, once you pulled your heads out of your butts," Parker recited proudly, missing the mildly horrified expression on Booth's face.

"Angela… she said that?" Booth choked out. Parker looked up in surprise; then, worry clouded his features.

"Oh no! She told me not to say anything. She made me promise!" Booth glanced at Brennan, who had moved to crouch by them, before returning his attention to his son. "Promise not to tell her I told? I don't want her to not like me anymore."

"I won't say anything, Parker," Booth answered instantly. "You can tell me anything, you know that." He stroked a hand over his son's hair in an absent caress.

"Was she right?" Parker asked suddenly, changing the subject in a way only a child can. "Are you and Dr. Bones dating?"

"Yes," Booth answered, his voice in sync with Brennan's. He turned back to see her smiling at him, that same vulnerability floating around her, vulnerability that, in Booth's eyes, only made her stronger.

"Is she going to live here?" Parker asked, practically bouncing with excitement in Booth's lap. "Can we live with her, dad? She has a pool! Are you going to get married?" The questions came rapid-fire, and Booth was unable to help the laughter that escaped him.

"Whoa! Slow down there, Parker!" Booth teased. "Dr. Bones and I, well… see, the thing is…"

"Your father and I haven't made arrangements as to where we'll be staying," Brennan jumped in, saving Booth from questions he didn't know the answer to. "You're welcome to use the key I gave you and come over anytime you like, though," she added, watching as Parker's face lit up, yet again.

"Wow, thanks Dr. Bones!" Parker threw himself off of Booth's lap and into Brennan's, his arms wrapping around her neck. "You're the best!" Booth watched as Brennan paused before returned the hug, her eyes connecting with Booth's over Parker's head.

Seeing _his_ son hugging _his _Bones loosened something inside of him. Some small part of him had imagined this day, creating countless scenarios, all with the same outcome; him, Bones, and Parker, all forming a family. His throat tightened, and Booth found himself swallowing a lump in his throat.

Abruptly, Parker jumped off of Brennan's lap, yelling something about a toy he wanted to show her, running towards his room to retrieve it. Brennan stood up and turned towards Booth, smile fading from her face after one look at him.

"Are you okay?" she asked, taking a tentative step towards him. She reached out a gentle hand, relief shining in her eyes when Booth caught her hand between his own, squeezing gently.

"I couldn't be better, Bones," Booth answered, watching as Parker ran back towards them, waving his _Spiderman _action figure around in excitement. "I couldn't be better."

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**If you have any ideas for a 'first' that you'd like to see me write, please let me know! Also, any and all feedback is greatly appreciated :)**

**Next up: Angela's reaction** **.**


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